But Lee ignored her question as he directed an arm to the doors on either side of the rounding hallway. “What’ll it be, blasters or the mats?” She couldn’t care less and continued to stare after him until, huffing a laugh under his breath, Lee edged through one of the doors. “The mats it is.”
Setting her water bottle down, Kat moved towards the center of the room, rolling her wrists in idle circles.
Lee joined her, and she mirrored his movements as he started into a set of lunges, the whirring grates of the vents overhead masking some of the echo from their voices.
“Waters, are you ever going to clue me into your theatrics?”
“The General was in the audience watching today. We needed a win,” he said finally, finishing a hold. He drew himself up straighter, facing her.
Kat let her feet come to a stop, bringing her hands to her waist to steady her. That General Narron was still here was news to her. It was high time he got up and off theirzappingship, but… there was more. She could feel it. She could see that tension rolling off Lee in little ebbs and ripples. “When you say we…” she began.
“I mean our former squadron. The Commander too, I suppose. I don’t know. It’s silly logic, it was just a match. But we couldn’t go out like that.”
Lee blew a breath into one of his fists, before trapping his fist in his palm. And when he met her gaze once more, he let her read the urgency and the desperation there. “I know what General Narron said—I know what I said afterward—but I don’t regret what happened with Segura. I stand by the belief that they could have helped us and been an asset to our galaxy—no matter what else they were.”
Lee cast his eyes down at his hands again, flexing them. “Segura is gone. They fled. That part’s over. But what we started on our raid with that mission, it doesn’t feel closed. It feels like we walked into the middle of something. Like there’s more to the story.”
“We’re just cadets. It’s not our battle,” Kat reminded him. Pleading with him and with herself to just let it go. They’d been given an opportunity to leave it in the past. She didn’t want to squander that, not now when they were so close. All they had left to do was make it through the rest of their Gamma year and they would leave all of this drama behind them.
He must have read some of that in her eyes. His brow furrowed as he backtracked. “No, you’re right. It’s not our battle.”
“You’re not going to be able to let it go,” she said, head tilting as she scrutinized the warring in his eyes. “Are you?”
“I can try.”
Kat nodded slowly, trying to get past the faint ringing in her ears.
“I’ll find a way to make it right, okay? We’ll figure it out,” Lee promised.
“And our probation?” she asked. If they were to figure this out, they’d have to accept the consequences of their actions and all that came with them.
“We’ll add it to the list,” Lee half-groaned.
It was funny. Coming home to the Academy, she’d pictured it as her safe space, the warm blanket she’d pull over her head to dull the shock and confusion. Yet the longer they were back, the more it seemed to channel those notes right back to her, like static on the fabric, or a malfunctioning verinity shield in need of a recharge.
Kat stretched her arms taut against her chest as they collapsed against the mats, moving on to a series of plank holds. Did she have any regrets?
They finished the set before Kat sat up again, sitting on her hands and knees. Conscious, and almost shy of the body next to hers. And the muscles she’d witnessed many times in action.
“You and I,” she began slowly, cursing herself a little for even going here. But something in his words earlier had thrown her. And while she knew what they’d said on that ship, they hadn’t talked about it—not exactly… “We’re good, aren’t we?”
She stole a glance over at him, peering around the vanilla strands hanging in her face.
Lee’s brow furrowed as he also pushed himself up to his knees, his green eyes sliding to hers.
“We’re good.” His chest heaved as he angled his body towards her. “You and I are good, Kat,” he added, leaning inclose enough that she could trace every plane of his mouth and feel his cool breath on her face.
Her eyes glazed a little at his closeness, eyelids shuddering.
“No regrets?” She somehow got the words out, the sounds breathless on her lips as heat began to claw its way up her spine. It was like the other day in his dorm. The insatiable fire was back.
“No regrets,” he breathed. And when his eyes latched onto hers this time, there was a feverishness there, a crazed hunger.
Her muscles were shaky, and not just from the workouts, as she eased upwards onto her knees, stopping herself when their bodies beat and tremored only a breath away. A minor movement from either of them, and her lips would be upon his.
Could he handle her particular brand of chaos? Could he handle all of her?
He leaned towards her.
